Teenage Girl Babysitter Gets Spanked

Teenage Girl Babysitter Acts Too Smart for Her Own Good, Ends Up Being Shamed and Spanked on Her Bare Bottom in Front of the Very Boys She Was Babysitting

Not long after I had turned 17, I suffered one of the worst possible utterly humiliating indignity imaginable for a teenage girl babysitter: being completely stripped and fully exposed from the waist down and then soundly spanked on my bare bottom in front of the very two younger boys whom I had been babysitting that night.

I know that many parents (and certainly 99.9% of males who have ever had a teenage girl babysitter who they felt was overly bitchy and bossy and mean) might say it was actually a fitting and proper comeuppance for me to receive. But, in any event, it was a punishment I’ll never live down.

It all started because of my stupid stepdad, his stubbornness and lack of respect for me to make my own decisions.

A family with two boys, ages 10 and 12, lived just down the block from us. I had babysat the boys in the past and really wasn’t keen on babysitting them again because they were a handful for sure.

One weekend in the fall of 2002 my younger brother (age 14) and I were with my stepdad for one of the many mandatory, court-ordered ‘visitations’ we had to spend with him.

I was already ticked at having to cancel a date that Saturday night with my boyfriend. And my stepdad further irritated me by having promised that family I’d babysit that night. But then I started thinking about it and realized it was at least a chance to actually be with my boyfriend.

Only my plan backfired when the boys wouldn’t cooperate by going to sleep several hours before the bedtime specified by their parents. Because they ruined a chance for me to do some cuddling with my boyfriend, I decided to retaliate by exaggerating their misbehavior that evening once their parents got home.

I wouldn’t mind much at all if their parents gave them a firm spanking with the bare hand and I can’t say that I wouldn’t have enjoyed watching their bared embarrassment.

However, if I even thought for a moment they would be strapped with a belt I would have lied from the onset and said they behaved like little angels.

But if I didn’t anticipate the dad’s reaction, what then?

That’s sort of what led to my dilemma and I suffered the consequences for lying and trying to be too smart for my own good.

The dad took off his belt. But before he made the boys pull down their pants, I stopped him and told him that what I initially said about the boys’ behavior wasn’t exactly entirely true.

Instead, I truthfully admitted that the boys actually behaved fairly good and only caused me some trouble when I tried to send them upstairs to bed way too early.

When he and his wife seemed at first to doubt me (probably because they knew how bad the boys often behaved for babysitters!), I finally admitted that after he and his wife left I had intended to invite a boyfriend over after (planning on) sending the boys to bed early. It was only then that the boys acted up.

I noted how the boys overheard me talking to my boyfriend on the phone and upon hearing my scheme they said if I did that they’d tattle on me to their parents.

I said I told the boys it would just be their word against mine and their parents would surely believe me, not them. But because they had ruined a chance for me to be alone with my boyfriend I had planned on retaliating against them by making up lies about them being bratty, rude and obnoxious all night long.

However, I told the dad, upon seeing him take off his belt, my conscience couldn’t permit me to see the boys have their bare bottoms repeatedly hit when they had really done nothing wrong. I said that at worst I thought they’d surely be grounded and that maybe the boys would have to pull their pants down for a bare bottom spanking by the hand.

Then the boys tattled on me and told their parents perhaps the worst of it: that I told them I would enjoy seeing them blushing with their pants down and trying to cover up their little penises while they got spanked. They also noted that I would then remind them of their shame each and ever time I babysat them in the future which I told them I hoped would be every week just so they feel embarrassed again and again because they helped to ruin a chance for me to be with my boyfriend.

But to see them hit with the belt would have been too much for my conscience to take. I then apologized for trying to get the boys in trouble.

The boys’ parents said I should be ashamed of myself as they both berated me and told me how disappointed they were in me and for me violating their trust. Yet, they still wanted to pay me but I said that, no, I couldn’t take their money. The mom said she was at least impressed with my honesty even though if it were up to her I would be sternly punished, while the dad was still a bit visibly angry (probably because he nearly punished for boys for no reason).

I then apologized again and left only to find myself outside at my car with a dead battery.

As much as I hated to do so, I had to call my stepdad (my younger brother and I were with him for the weekend) to come pick me up since it was around midnight.

Although the family just lived down the block from my mom’s house, my mom was away that weekend while my younger brother and I had one of those frequent court-ordered ‘visitation’ weekends with our stepdad. He had got a place for himself after moving out, so we had to be with him. His new place was miles away, hence why I had my car with me.

When my stepdad got there, he brought along not only my younger brother (who was now 14) but also his new girlfriend and one of her nephews, who was around 6 or 7), since he was going to drive Terri and her nephew home that night anyway.

And that’s when my night turned from bad to worse.

Terri’s nephew said he needed to use the bathroom and I went back inside to get my handbag. I then excused myself to the bathroom as well once Terri’s nephew came out. But in that time the parents of the two boys began to tell everything I had confessed about to my stepdad!

When I walked back out into the family room, my stepdad immediately started to go into a fit about how dare I try to get those boys in trouble and that I was going to be the one punished, etc., etc., etc.

I said I was sorry over and over and that I had already apologized, etc., etc., etc.

But that didn’t matter. My stepdad called me over to him and said he was going to spank me right there, looking up at the two boys’ parents to see if they had any objections.

The mother of the two boys just kind of smirked and said, “Well, it would be a fitting punishment for her. If I were her mom, I’d spank her, too. Becky even did say how much she would have enjoyed seeing the boys embarrassed with their pants down getting spanked on their bare butt.”

That set my stepdad off even more: “Oh? She said that, did she?”

“Well, then Becky. Get over here. NOW!”

I glanced over at the two boys and they just had the widest grins on their faces. They were obvious quite content at the thought of seeing ME punished! My brother and Terri’s nephew were already giggling (since they had already seem me spanked in the recent past).

As I walked over and stood in front of my stepdad, who by now had sat down on a dining table chair he had pulled over, he first berated me for how I was dressed. I was wearing a short, mid-riff bearing tube top (no bra) that went down to just above my exposed navel, a pair of tight shorts (and panties) and sandals.

With Terri’s nephew sitting on a chair immediately to my stepdad’s right (Terri and my brother off to my stepdad’s right even further) and the two boys I had babysat and their parents now sitting down behind me, my stepdad then unfastened my shorts and pulled both them and my panties down in one swoop.

The air was filled by gasps and giggles from the boys, my brother at least merely smirking at my exposure and my shame.

My stepdad then stood up, put his hands on my shoulders and spun me around to face the two boys and their parents. I gasped in embarrassment, throwing my hands down to cover my neatly trimmed pubes, which at that time extended upwards over my mound from my clit into a little bush, leaving my lips cleanly shaven on both sides.

I was then ordered to apologize. When I said, by now sniffling and my eyes tearing up, that I had already apologized, the mother of the two boys pointed out that I really hadn’t apologized to her two sons.

Mortified as the boys looked me over, I began blabbering out an apology to them until Terri interrupted and said, “Hands at your sides, Becky.”

When I hesitated, my stepdad walked over a few steps and gave me two hard slaps to my bare bottom and repeated what Terri had said.

Closing my eyes for a few seconds in shame, I did as instructed, hearing the boys snicker and giggle until I mustered up enough courage to open them.

Terri then said, “Becky, start over with your apology.”

Oh, great! More exposed shame!

I looked down at the floor while I muttered my apology again until Terri told me to look at the boys! Of course, when I did so, their eyes met mine only when they weren’t darting back down to glance at my exposed bottomless.

The boys’ mom even snickered about, asking me, “So Becky. How does it feel to have YOUR pants down before you get punished? Like you wanted them to feel? Embarrassed? Ashamed?”

I nodded but my stepdad ordered me to put my feelings into words.

“Yes, I feel very embarrassed,” I noted, as the giggled even louder. And I apologized for lying about them again.

As that all went on for probably two minutes, I tried to avoid eye contact with the boys’ father, but at one point our eyes met and he had a smirk on his face. There was not a sympathetic face towards me in the room!

My stepdad then ordered me to step out of my shorts and panties and walk back over to him as I obviously had to spread my feet apart enough to kick them off. Of course it doing so, the boys got even a better frontal view of me.

I was then soon over my stepdad’s lap and the spanking began.

As he had been doing so recently, he punctuated each word denouncing my behavior with a hard slap to my bare bottom several seconds apart so that I would feel each slap separately, sometimes alternating which cheek to strike, sometimes not, but thoroughly spanking both sides of my bottom and most especially my sit spot.

For a few seconds, I tried to keep my legs together but due to the stinging pain soon modesty was of no real concern despite me hearing all three young boys giggling behind me. Apparently, the boys whom I had babysat for the evening decided to take advantage of the opportunity to get an impromptu education on the female anatomy.

After the lecture part of the spanking, another phase of it began in which I had to issue promises about my future behavior while still being spanked as I responded. By now my bottom was quite red and quite sore. Then it was over. Probably a good three to four minutes.

When I was told to stand up, I was the one doing the spanking dance you referred to, trying to rubbing my sore bottom, arching up and down on my toes, oblivious to the fact that my tube top had slide down to around my mid-section. So, my bare buns weren’t the only things jiggling about as I did the spanking dance.

After the most immediately pain began to subside, probably not for a good minute or so at least, Terri told me, “Shame on you. Pop your tits back in your top, Becky.”

That got giggles from everyone in the room save for perhaps my stepdad. Even the boys’ mom had a look of satisfaction on her face for the shameful punishment that without a doubt just put an impertinent teenage girl in her place.

I fixed my top, but didn’t bother trying to cover up down below. Everyone in the room had gotten a long, good view of my womanhood. Trying to regain any modesty now was pointless.

It was at this point that the mother of the boys incredulously said to my stepdad, “I don’t think we will have to worry now about Becky acting inappropriately when she’s babysitting the boys in the future.”

I thought to myself, did I hear her correctly? She wants me to continue babysitting her two boys?

The woman then added, “Becky had said that when threatening the boys she intended to remind them of them feeling embarrassed ever time she’d babysit them in the future. Looks like she’ll be the one embarrassed now. Won’t you be, Becky?”

When I blushed and nodded, she added she wanted me to babysit her sons each of the following two weekends!

My stepdad said that would be fine with him and when I protested that I had plans to go out with my friends, he said he didn’t care.

He then told the parents of the boys that if I presented any problems, they had his permission to spank me!

I raised my voice and protested, “That’s not fair! They can’t spank me.”

But he asked them, “Do you have a problem with that?”

They each shrugged, the woman saying, “Not at all. I’d have liked to spank her myself for what she did tonight. I think it was admirable of her to confess what she planned but she still needed to be punished.”

When I muttered a “What the fuck?” my stepdad said “Watch your mouth, Becky” and then marched me over to the woman and told me to bend over. When I hesitated, he began to arch my back over until I quickly relented, finding myself over the woman’s lap!

Ten painful swats from her later, I was standing again, my tube top again betraying me.

She then nodded to her husband and I was quickly pulled over his knee and got a good half dozen or so swats from him, too!

Terri then suggested that for my disrespect and to help insure my proper behavior, the parents of the two boys should spank me on my bare bottom the following weekend as soon as I arrived there to babysit the boys: “That will help her continue to reflect on how poorly she behaved tonight.”

The woman said, “You mean something like a preventive spanking? I’m O.K. with that.”

The boys giggled. Evidently, they were going to be quite fine with that, too!

My stepdad then told my brother and I to go wait in the car with Terri’s nephew, that he and Terri would be out in a few minutes. (No doubt they wanted to rip my mom about the divorce proceedings).

The two boys waved to me as I blushed in retreat, giggling “See you next week, Becky.”

Terri reminded me to put my tube top back in place, which I did. But I was still bottomless, too. But when I looked around to retrieve my shorts and panties, I saw that Terri was holding them and she told me, “Just go out to the car, Becky. I’ll bring them out to you.”

Embarrassed, I headed outside half-naked with a red bottom, at this point not much caring who would see me. No one else did, thankfully, and within a minute Terri’s nephew, my brother Matt and I were sitting in the back seat, me crying in pain and shame, them smirking and grinning at my embarrassment.

Actually, sitting is a subjective term in this case. Because I wasn’t quite sitting. I was more or less resting half over onto my brother’s lap, not at all concerned that Terri’s nephew was getting a close-up view of everything.

I then made sure the following weekend to humble myself to the boys, literally having to get down on my knees to BEG them not to tell their friends in the neighborhood they saw me getting spanked on my bare bottom. I pretty much ended up their maid and waitress any time I babysat them after that.

Feelings of Teenage Girl Spanked on Bare Bottom by Stepdad

EMBARRASSED. SHAMED. DEGRADED. DEMEANED. DISGRACED. HUMILIATED. MORTIFIED.

That’s how I felt nine years ago as a 16-year old teenager from having my bare bottom spanked numerous times by my stepdad.

And that doesn’t even get into the other emotions it fed: anger, guilt, hate…

But from having it happen first in front of my younger brother and his 12-year old playmate (a boy I regularly babysat – making those feelings intensify greatly) to the spankings I got a week later on full display in front of not only my younger brother (who was present the whole time) but also in front of my older brother, his girlfriend and two friends of theirs from college who unexpectedly walked into the house during my punishment, my humiliation and shame complete, I also felt new emotions:

Resignation, helplessness and total submission.

As that evening’s spanking began, I was told from that now on, that is how I would be punished: bared from the waist down and spanked regardless of who was in the room – this time it was my younger brother again. And if I continued to reach back with my hands to block the swats, my stepdad would continue to unhook or simply remove my bra each time too (as he had last week and that night), essentially giving me a choice whether to suffer further shame or be compliant and accept my punishment.

As one vicious bare-hand slap after another that night rained down on my bare bottom, I cried and pleaded for mercy that still makes be ashamed to this day for not being stronger and more defiant.

With tears rolling down my cheeks I promised and acknowledged and agreed that I understood how I’d be spanked from that day on and that I knew I’d be spanked each weekend for the next month for my ”poor behavior” and ”disrespect.”

With each demanding question put to me I blubbered out barely coherent answers:

“Are you going to behave from now on?” – yes

“You promise?” – yes

“Are you going to start showing me respect?” – yes

“You promise?” – yes

“Are you going to start dressing properly?” – yes

“I didn’t hear you?” – yes

“You promise?” – yes

“Are you ever going to run out of the house again?” – no

“You promise?” – yes

“Are you going to stop talking back?” – yes

“You promise?” – yes

“And what will happen if you do, or if you don’t listen or behave?” – I get a spanking.

“What kind of spanking?” – a… a bare bottom spanking.

“And if you don’t behave while being spanked?” – my top gets removed.

“What about your bra?” – it gets removed too

“I didn’t understand you. What did you say?” – my bra gets removed too

“Are you going to behave from now on?” – yes

“You promise?” – yes

Resignation, helplessness and total submission indeed.

Regardless of the embarrassment, the stinging to my bottom was just too much and so I let my unhooked bra fall to the floor as I grabbed the lower part of the legs of the chair with my hands to help brace myself, my younger brother having already seen me essentially spanked twice this way before: naked. (As he had done before my stepdad had unhooked my bra that night, figuring that would keep my hands busy trying to hold it up against my breasts than reaching back attempting to block the swats.)

Between my stepdad’s commands, me crying, Matt watching and my mom in the shower upstairs, no one it seems heard the doorbell.

The first indication that others were behind me was upon hearing a guy’s voice exclaim, “Whoa! What the fuck?! Sweeeeeet!”

An unfamiliar female voice then began giggling.

Then I heard a familiar snort – it was coming from my older brother, Bobby.

And I quickly recognized his girlfriend (now wife) Kris’ voice from her, “Oh my God!”

My stepdad stopped only momentarily, before addressing Bobby: “This is what your sister gets for running around the neighborhood half-naked. Isn’t that right, Becky? Well? Answer me! Well?”

I blubbered out a barely coherent string of “yesses” and could only imagine what they all must of thought of my stepdad’s twisting of what had really happened that day.

Then I heard the other female say, “Come on, Cory. Let’s go and wait in the car for Kris.” (As I later found out, the four of them had double-dated and were dropping Bobby off at home; Bobby was starting college that fall.)

“I said, ‘Let’s go!” she said again, even as she giggled.

Then my mom came downstairs from her shower, yelling at my stepdad as the couple who were friends of my older brother and his girlfriend (now wife) made a hasty exit. I could hear the guy telling his girlfriend, “Did you see the way her tits were bouncing?”, both of them giggling as they closed the door on their way outside.

Embarrassed, shamed, degraded, demeaned, disgrace, humiliated, mortified indeed.

Then as I, in retrospect, made the poor decision to answer back to the way my stepdad “explained” to my older brother and his girlfriend why I was being punished, my bare bottom received several more slaps for my trouble – until my mom demanding that he stop and that I stand up.

When I did, I could do nothing but stand there, my bare bottom most certainly a bright cherry red and on fire as if stung by a hive of bees from that evening’s spanking and an earlier one late that afternoon. I could not help rubbing it while indifferent to my nakedness in front of my mom, my stepdad, my two brothers and my older brother’s girlfriend.

As I stood there, my parents arguing, my younger brother held up and dangled my bra in front of me, grinning. I snatched it from his hands before flinging it across the room in anger – my shame and humiliation already complete.

As my parents continued arguing, my older brother Bobby stared at me, a shocked expression on his face of both disbelief but also disapproval from what my stepdad was saying about my behavior that day.

My stepdad continued, “Who knows? Maybe she was flashing truckers on the way back home.”

I protested: “I did not. I had the towel wrapped around me and…”

But he cut me off and made fun of me saying, “Hear that? But she had a ‘TOWEL’ on! If that’s the way she wants to dress in public, then she has no right to complain about being spanked this way. She already knows that from now on, when she gets spanked it will be on her bare ass. Isn’t that right, Becky?”

I nodded, then mouthed a “yes” when ordered to speak up and answered “on my bare bottom” when questioned as to how I’d be spanked any time it was felt I needed a spanking.

My mom began arguing again, “I said that’s enough…”

I heard my dad saying something like ‘”That’s right. On her bare ass… don’t care what her brothers see…”

As my mom was saying, “I don’t want you spanking her anymore.”

Matt started to say something. Then my mom added, “And that goes for Matt, too.”

My stepdad countered and said something like, “Why? Because now that Miss Spoiled Tart here sheds a few tears? You never demanded I stop spanking him. Why should she be treated any differently? Maybe a sore ass and a little humiliation each week will finally teach her to behave.”

“Becky, should you be treated any differently than Matt? Is that fair?” he asked.

“No,” I replied.

“So if he gets spanked for misbehaving or talking back, how should you be spanked?”

“The same. On my bare bottom,” I answered, my head down in shame.

“When?” he asked.

“Every time I don’t listen,” I replied.

He continued arguing with my mom: “I’ve had it with her attitude, her disrespect and her dressing like a hooker. From now on, that’s the way it’s going to be until she goes off to college and I don’t give a fuck how embarrassed she says she is. If she’s embarrassed naked and bare-assed being spanked over her father’s lap, if she’s embarrassed with her brothers seeing her like that, then she can start behaving herself and watching her sassy mouth. Otherwise…”

At that point I just lost it. Not over my humiliation, my nakedness and the twisting of the truth as to what had happened that day. Not over the spanking.

With my hands on my hips, I turned to face him and yelled back, “You’re NOT my father. My father’s DEAD. Stop calling yourself that, you don’t know the meaning of the word, you son of a bitch! I HATE you! Do you hear me? I HATE YOU!”

There was quite a hush in the room and I just sort of stood there, then began trembling, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Kris, Bobby’s girlfriend, left the room for a moment and walked in the kitchen, returning with an apron for me to drape around myself. As she handed it to me it fell to the floor; I didn’t bother picking it up.

My mom said, “Becky, why don’t you go upstairs and put something on?”

My stepdad replied, “After that outburst? You’re going to let her get away and go unpunished for that? Apparently two spankings today weren’t enough.”

At that point, I outstretched both arms away from my and yelled back at my mom:

“Put something on? What for? You heard him. From now on, why should I bother wearing anything around the house since this is how I’m going to be spanked?”

I stood like that for at least ten seconds or so, everyone staring at me, until finally an incredible sense of shame came over me. I threw my hands across my boobs and pussy and went running off into the living and flung myself onto the couch. There I lay crying, burying my head into the pillows for I’m not sure how long. Then I felt Kris’ hands caressing my shoulders.

A robe in her hand, she whispered to me that my mom wanted me to spend the night at my best friend’s house, that hers and Bobby’s friends were still out front in their car all that time waiting to drive her home and that they’d drop me off, Kris having already called my girlfriend that I’d soon be coming over.

As I stood up, putting on the robe, my mom walked over. She hugged and kissed me and told me that everything was going to be alright. That she was sorry she didn’t act sooner. She handed me a small overnight bag that she had Kris hastily pack for me and walked out of the room, saying she’d see me in the morning. As Kris led me out the door, I didn’t look back into the dining room where I could hear my stepdad still arguing with her but in a much more subdued tone. My mom had told him she was filing for divorce.

There were still more spankings, more humiliation and more shame to come as the divorce progressed. Nor did it matter whoever may have been present as I was often reduced to a crying, naked, jiggling spectacle throughout most of that summer.

For years afterward, I was in denial. Whenever in conversation if asked had I ever been spanked by my parents, I’d deny it. Sure, I’d sometimes acknowledge that my younger brother was spanked while growing up. But not me. And certainly not as a teenager. And never, never, NEVER by my stepdad.

He hadn’t seen me naked since I was in diapers, I’d reply. Only my family and my closest friends knew the truth. Had guys at my high school knew, I would have never lived it down.

But the embarrassment, shame, degradation and humiliation was still there. It still is. Though I’ve finally come to terms that at least the shame isn’t mine. It’s his – for treating me like that.

But even though it has faded with time, the embarrassment and humiliation will always be there.


This was initially published on The Experience Project, July 21, 2011